Out of Touch
by NightHawk921
Summary: A look into Heero's feelings and emotions after the war and how he comes to terms with them by the aid of a friend and the mission that brought them together. 2x1
1. Chapter 1

Starting another story when I have 2 not finished yet. I hate stories without endings, but I also hate my unfinished stories, my plea for help and suggestions from those who want them continued is still wide open.

This is a new story that's been playing in my head the past month or two. I think it may have potential so I'm releasing this first chapter as a test.

--------------

Chapter 1

I was taught to be the perfect soldier; to show no emotion. But does showing no emotion mean I have no feelings? I use to think they were one in the same, by blocking one I was automatically blocking the other. I did not concern myself with the lack of feelings and emotions I possessed during the war, but after the war it hit me. I watched the other pilots drift back to their home worlds or make new ones together; chase their dreams and desires; follow their emotions.

I had no dreams or desires to chase. No emotions to follow. I was a killing machine and without war I was lost. Duo tried to help. He tried teaching me about the pleasures life has to offer. He introduced me to ice cream and cake, two things he said could make any person happy. Happy. A simple word. An easy enough emotion. And yet, for the life of me, I can not tell you when the last time was I was happy because I don't recall ever being so. I don't even know if I would recognize the feeling if I did feel it. Is it a natural feeling or do you have to be taught what it is? Needless to say I felt no change after eating the ice cream or the cake, combining them together also had no effect.

Next Duo took me sky diving. He said the feeling it gives is pure bliss. Absolute freedom. Trouble is. I've been locked up, both physically and mentally my whole life. You'd think I'd be the first person to recognize freedom. If not the freedom than at least the thrill, exhilaration, excitement of knowing there is a slight chance my shoot wont open and I'll die; unable to do anything about it. Yet I felt nothing, aside from my stomach, as I plummeted to the ground from 13,000 feet, traveling at a speed of 120 miles per hour, with nothing but air between the ground and my body.

Once on the ground I could hear Duo whooping and yelling. Jumping in the air and twirling, which was quickly followed by the sounds of the contents of his stomach forcing their way out of his mouth while he hunched over. Once finished he staggered his way over to me as I started gathering my parachute.

"How was that?" he asked once he made it over to me.

"Hn" I responded, not looking at him.

"What! Nothing again! I thought this might not have been the best idea, I mean, you have self destructed, and we've all experienced a freefall here and there with our suits. But its never just been you and the air…for 4000 meters before!!! I mean, I'm the God of Death, but even that gets me nervous!"

I decided to look at him at this; his eyes big with excitement and mouth in a big open smile. I watched his eyes search my face for any sign of change. Any sign an emotion or feeling graced my features. I saw his eyes shrink and his smile falter as he realized nothing had changed. My face had remained in its stone-like passive expression the entire time.

"Its not over yet" he said, placing his hand on my shoulder, "I'm not going to stop trying till I find something."

I knew Duo had a life on L-2 he wanted to start. He had told me he wanted to run a junkyard there. He claimed it was the perfect job. He would get the cities unwanted items, which he would then be able to do what he wanted with. He would be getting paid to rifle through other people's garbage, searching anything he could use to make something with or repair. And why L-2? "It holds my memories" was his answer.

Memories. I didn't even have memories to look back on. Before departing L-1 in Wing, all I can remember is large white rooms and Dr. J. Not much to write home about, if you know what I mean. My first memory has me somewhere at the age of 10. I don't know what happened to the memories before then and I had never thought about it, until Duo found out about my lack of memory and decided to list every possible reason why I couldn't remember. I'm sure something on the list was the reason: an accident that erased my memory, bad event that my mind wanted to block out, drugs, I am a clone or lab experiment and didn't come into being until I was 10 and Duo's favorite: Dr. J cut out the part of my brain with my memories of my childhood. I actually think the clone or lab experiment are more likely, but I decided not to share that with Duo. Knowing J it wouldn't be a surprise, though any of the options wouldn't have surprised me. J was a fan of using drugs for everything, and I was born during a war. So tragic events: not uncommon.

But back to Duo's memories. They are the reason I left him. He had decided that I should have a full body massage and then go snowboarding, or something equally as fast paced. He believed the massage would relax my body to a point it had not seen since birth, which would then allow me to fully enjoy an extreme sport. I had my doubts and I wanted Duo to just get on with his life. Mine was unimportant. I was an organic machine. Duo was a person. I left a simple note in the hotel room we had been sharing. It read: "remember your dream".

I know he searched for me for 6 months, relentlessly. And he almost found me several times. But after six months he was starting to run out of money to keep up his intensive one-man search. He went back to L-2 and opened his garage, and saved up money. He also spent the time hacking into every government system he could think of. Any act of violence was followed up by Duo to see if anyone or detail fit with me.

When the Preventers started up I was wary about joining. Though it meant a life I was more accustomed with, it also mean our goal of ultimate peace had not, nor would ever, be achieved. About a year after the war I had had enough of aimless wandering. I decided to give Lady Une an unexpected visit.

I snuck into the Preventer's building, which was easier than I thought it would have been and broke into Une's office. I spent the night looking through the files on the system, seeing the types of cases they covered and how they operated. They were just like any other law enforcement agency, except they did it quietly. The general population had no idea they even existed. Their guise was as the headquarters of a bank, with a branch of said bank on the first floor.

I had just finished scanning the system, logged off Une's computer and went to wait in the corner seat when she walked into her office. 'Earlier riser' I thought. I watched her from my seat quietly, waiting for her to notice me. It wasn't until she sat at her desk and logged into her computer she realized something wasn't right. She looked up and her eyes fell immediately on me. She jumped up with a start and drew her gun aiming it at me before she realized who I was. I calmly got up from my seat and walked to stand in front of her. Her gun remained aimed at me and her expression went from shock to confusion to develop a slight smirk.

"Ah, Heero. I was wondering when you would grace me with your presence. Thanks for the heart attack this morning, I was greatly in need of one." She said, still aiming her gun at me and taking off the safety.

"Should I be worried you are sitting here in my office or relieved? I have an opening for you if that is why you are here. I also have a bullet with your name on it if you are here for other reasons. And if you were here just for the morning heart attack and not to accept the job or my bullet then I've also got hand cuffs to arrest you for breaking and entering and seeing information classified as sensitive and private."

"I came for a job" I replied.

"Great! I've been hoping you'd come around. We could really use you. Trowa and Wufei are here too, but you were always the most versatile of the five. I've been sending larger groups than I'd like on missions in order to have the different field covered. But you would be able to take the place of three, four men at least!"

"Would I make the salary of four men then?" I asked.

"Has Yuy developed a sense of humor? You will be making a sizeable amount since you would be our top agent."

"The money doesn't matter to me." I said "When would I start?"

"Normally our agents go through a 12 week training period, but I already know how you operate. Trowa and Wufei only went to a 4 week one, but that was because we hadn't fully opened yet. I have a mission that I need to get people on now. It requires a small force and the fewer the better. You always were better solo and that is how I would prefer this one to go. Seeing as you crept in here unseen even by the numbers cameras we have here I'm sure you don't want anyone else to know you've joined on, which makes you leaving here as soon as possible desirable for both of us."

I nodded in understanding and agreement.

"This mission will have you going to L-2 as a bartender. Drug lords have been known to frequent this particular bar. The last bartender was killed in a shoot out the other day and the bar has been closed since. It will be opening again tomorrow. The lords were chummy with the last bartender, so it is your job to gain their trust. For this mission you will need to hack records. Find out where the drugs are coming from, and where they are going. As well as everyone involved. These lords have been causing a lot of terror on L-2, taking over the cities and towns one by one. I'm not asking you to kill them all. Just get all the information, killing one here or there, as long as no one knows its you doing the killing is fine. But once you have all the information, you are to call me and I will send my forces to take care of it. You got that Heero? You are not to do this completely alone. You WILL call me when you have the information. I have teams stationed there already, but they are blended in with the police forces to provide their services and to be on call when we need them at a moments notice."

------

I arrived on L-2 early the next morning. Just enough time to check into my hotel and get a few hours sleep before I was to show up at the bar.

L-2 was not the place I would have picked for my first mission. In fact I'd been staying as far away from L-2 as possible. My luck ran out even more when I found out the bar I was to tend was in the same sector as Duo's junkyard.


	2. Chapter 2

Looks like I'm to continue the story! Sorry for the delay!!

------

L-2 had undergone a lot of changes since the start of the war. First it turned into the hellhole of space, then rich do-gooders from earth bought up large chunks of real-estate to fix up and turn into cute little coffee shops and boutiques. In no time at all L-2 was equivalent to the wealthy of Beverly Hills, the romance of Paris, the technology of Japan and the poor of Africa. For even though L-2 had undergone the transformation from ugly duckling to dazzling swan, it was accomplished with cover-up. Not Mother Nature. The poor of L-2 became poorer; unable to leave, they were forced into the corner to rot quietly while the lavish earth dwellers graced the colony with their presence on summer vacations and "work" related rendezvous. The simple fact that they brought most of the money into the colony made them think they were in charge of it. Hence the people who lived there year round from birth to death had little, if any, say in the decision-making processes of the government and so therefore suffered from lack of government programs and subsidies to aid them.

Enter the drug lords.

The drug lords had been the government before L-2's transformation. Contrary to outward appearances, the drug lords did not suffer from L-2's blossoming cleanliness. Those with money tend to have habits. And the established lords of the colony readily met those habits. The new government, not wanting to risk its good relations with the drug lords, allowed them to maintain their control over the "subspecies" of humans that had once had free range over the colony without any interference. Though the lords were becoming greedy again and slowly expanding their boarders.

The bar I was to become "happily employed" with, sat smack dab in the filth of L-2. My hotel had been on the outskirts of the transformation. Une apparently wanted to ease me into this decrepit habitat.

Soot and filth covered everything in Sector C, unlike the rest of the colony; Sector C maintained its original name. Since it was not part of the transformation, no one thought it important to change its name.

Hobos slept along buildings and in doorways in rags. The street was crawling with peddlers of all sorts. One in particle had an army of rats gathered round him he was teaching tricks to. Kids and some amused parents stood round watching. The colony rat was like a tame dog to these people. Hustlers and prostitutes were out and about; apparently any time of the day is their time of day.

Finally I reached the bar. There was an old faded sign swinging above the door by two rusty nails that read: Thirsty Bull. The door handle looked and felt like it was covered in 50 years of filth. I don't think it had even been cleaned or changed. After my initial pull on the door to open it left the door perfectly in its place, I gripped the door handle firmly and yanked the door open. A loud screech of a rusty door hinge signaled my arrival to a man sitting at a table with papers spread out in front of him and a busboy who was behind the bar cleaning glasses.

Without moving anything but his eyes the man looked at me a minute before going back to the task of organizing the papers before saying, "Are you Tucker Marick?"

"I am"

"Good." Obviously the owner wasn't one for talking, I respected him for this. I walked into the bar a little more just to be away from the door and waited for the owner to address me again.

After arranging the papers in an order the owner was pleased with he gathered them together, stood and limped over to me. Outstretching his hand to me he said, "I'm Ando Onomora and this, as I'm sure you've guessed, is a bar. We open in 2 hours. As I'm sure you noticed when entering that door is a pain in the rear so open it and turn the lock to the locked position. That way it won't close all the way and the patrons will be able to handle it in their states." He started limping away in the direction of a back door. "Get acquainted with where everything is located. This is run like any other bar. People order a drink, you make it, they pay you. Back this way is my office and the rest rooms are the door on the left. I'll be leaving here within the next hour to take care of some other business. If there are any problems there is a bat under the bar, if that doesn't work there is a gun with some shells in the drawer under the cash register. Bar closes at 4 am. Have a good first night" and with that he entered the room that lead to his office. Apparently I may have to change my initial opinion of him not being one for talking 'cause he just said an earful.

I looked the bar over. There were wooden tables and chairs along the walls and stools along the bar. Most of the chairs looked too wobbly to hold anyone's weight without snapping and the tables looked like two empty glasses of beer would be the most they could handle. During my examination of the establishment I was also watching the busboy. He hadn't moved since I entered and his white shirt and apron seemed to clash with the gritty atmosphere of the place. He unashamedly kept his eyes on me, even when I looked straight back at him. Not a flinch or a blink. The need to water my own eyes was my excuse for breaking our staring contest, though it didn't dissuade him from continuing his one-on-one match with himself. Had I been into emotions and feelings I'd say he would have given me the creeps, but since I'm not I paid little attention to him and walked over to the bar to familiarize myself with the placement of bottles and glasses.

There wasn't much to familiarize myself with. The bar was very limited on alcohol. It consisted of beer, beer and more beer. The choices this bar gave its customers, it seemed, was either bottled or draft and pint or pitcher. Simple enough. I walked over to the door, opened it and turned the lock to the locked position. Then I walked away letting the door slowly close behind me. The busboy still hadn't moved since I first entered the bar and he was still watching me. He looked to be in his early twenties, lean with dirty blond hair and a height of about 6 feet. Though he was unashamed to continuously stare at me there was no intensity behind his eyes. It was more the blank stare of an uninterested observer, waiting to pass judgment, rather than the stare of an enemy waiting to strike. I decided to pass the time waiting for the bar to open by cleaning the glasses with a rag at the other end of the bar from the busboy. We wiped down the glasses in peaceful silence. About 30 minutes before opening the busboy changed his stare from my general area to that of the door.

Five minutes to opening the first customer walked, or rather stumbled in. He looked to be in his mid-forties. Gray hair was scattered over his balding head. His shoulders were hunched forward and his lose staggering walk made his arms swing from side to side. He was dressed in rags and covered with filth. The busboy stopped cleaning his glass, walked to the cooler, pulled out a beer and placed it on the bar. The man came upon it like a small child being reunited with its lost puppy. He picked it up, lifting it to his lips with utter care; bringing his head back and closing his eyes he began to drink from it like it was water. The drink was finished in less than a minute. I realized I was staring only when the busboy nonchalantly got the man another beer without a word passed before either. The man picked up his second drink and took a seat on one of the stools along the bar. The man propped his beer-holding arm on the bar and held it close to his lips. With his arm and beer in place he noticed me for the first time. Lifting his chin up quickly was his form of acknowledgement before returning to his beer. This second beer he took his time with. Meaning only that he took a sip at a time while looking blankly at some unknown spot on the wall in front of him. Even so he still finished the drink within five minutes.

As the man was finishing his second beer more people started entering the bar. Patrons came to the bar before taking their drink to an empty table, but for those who chose to find a table first the busboy wasted no time in seeking them out and taking their order. The bar was full of drunken bodies in no time. I kept my eye on the door incase a particular junkyard worker crossed the threshold, but I kept my ears open for any talk that may be related to the drug lords.

It was a long night. No one seemed to mind the lack or space or the occasional drunk relieving their livers and stomachs on some strangers shoulder. We had run out of bottles around midnight and the taps had all run dry right around 4 am. No sooner had the availability of beer disappeared, than the crowed in the bar also started to vanish. I later learned this was something the bar owner had figured out after years of running the bar. The only way to get the people to leave was by stopping the flow of alcohol. And the most successful way to do this way for there to be none left so angry patrons couldn't force their way over the bar and to the beer. Some nights the beer ran out before 4 and sometimes it lasted a litter longer. But it was the only sure way to get any rest between days.

I didn't learn much in terms of drug dealer's dealings. I spotted a few blokes who where most likely dealers or in the circle. Their mannerisms were a little to formal, their eyes scanned the room more than the average Joe's, and their clothing was just a cut above the rest. To the untrained eye it would have been hard to pick any of these signs out. But my eyes weren't untrained. I had been too busy to get out of the bar like the busboy had been doing. There was too much business going on at the bar for both workers to leave it at the same time. I planned to be the one taking orders from the tables tomorrow night, and as often as I could get it.

Duo had not entered the bar my first night there, but I didn't count on that luck holding on much longer. I was also going to use my plan of being the table hopper as my way of avoiding him when he did enter the bar. Of course this also counted on the fact that he would be the type of patron who went to the bar rather than to a table. Though I was sure the bar I was working wasn't the only in the area, so it was possible Duo would never step foot in mine.

Once all the patrons had left the bar looked like a few dozen bombs had hit it. Chairs were knocked over everywhere; there was even the occasional overturned table. Bottles and cups littered both the floor and tables. There was a layer of liquid covering the floor. This consisted of beer, vomit and urine. I didn't even want to see what the bathrooms looked like. The busboy had already begun mopping the floor. I took a garbage bag and began walking around the bar collecting bottles. Once I had all the bottles in bags I got a plastic bucket from behind the bar to collect the cups in. The busboy had moved on from mopping to wiping down all the surfaces and standing up the overturned tables and chairs.

Once I had gathered all the glasses I began washing them. The busboy disappeared into the bathrooms for what I thought was an amazingly short amount of time, before coming back out and issuing the first words to me I'd heard come out of his mouth: "We have cleaned up enough for the night. Go home, sleep and be back here by 2 to finish getting the bar ready." I nodded my understanding, finished washing the glass in my hand before setting it aside and drying my hands. The busboy had gone into the back, and come back out with his jacket. I had not come in a jacket. We walked to the front door together. I reached it first so I turned the lock to the open position so the door would be able to close fully. When we got outside the busboy pulled a key out of his pocket and locked the door behind us. He then turned and walked in the opposite direction I was to go with a nod of his head.

I was glad he wasn't going the same way as me. Though I was content to not start a conversation with him if we had been walking the same direction, its much more comfortable to walk alone if your not going to be having a conversation with someone you don't now. It was 5:30 when I left the bar. I arrived back at my hotel around 6 and after stripping down to my boxers crashed into bed.


	3. Chapter 3

On to Chapter 3! Thank you to all those who have reviewed so far!!!

---------------

As it turned out I wasn't able to get away from the bar until my fourth night there. After going back to the hotel that first night and sleeping on the events of my first day as a bar tender I decided it would be better for me to become a little better acquainted with the workings of the bar. I spent my time observing the busboy and how he moved through the drunken mob like they weren't there. He walked through the bar with a bucket filled with beers and only gave one to patrons who paid him first. If a patron didn't have his money ready when the busboy passed they missed out on getting another beer until he walked by again, unless they decided to head to the bar instead of waiting.

On the fourth day I had a good idea of how to navigate the bar and who the dealers were. When I arrived at the bar at 2 to finish cleaning up the place before it opened I asked the busboy if he wouldn't mind if I made the round that night. He seemed relieved to have been asked if he could stay behind the bar.

I had paid close attention to the drug lords when the busboy was around them, but from what I could see they paid him little, if any, attention. I realized the old bartender was probably the one who had made the rounds before getting shot, not the busboy, which is why the lords paid him little attention and also why the busboy was relieved to be back behind the bar tonight.

I had caught the thugs with the drug lords checking me out a few times. Probably sizing me up since I was a new face in the crowd. I decided that for the time being I would let the dealers approach me. Aside from bringing them more drinks I wouldn't approach them. I didn't want to seem eager to make their acquaintance and I didn't want it to seem like I already knew who they were. It would take time to build up any sort of trust with them, and time I did not have. I had to instill in them a sense of trust in me in a very short amount of time.

Even though the dealers came to the bar a few hours after it had been open for operation their table was never taken. Apparently the lifeless drunken patrons were aware of the dealers enough to steer clear of their area. It was the only table in the entire establishment to have any breathing room around it. The invisible bubble around the table extended at least two feet and anyone to cross closer than that did their best to get out of it within the second.

The only thing I was going to do to the dealers was not show fear. I wanted them to know I couldn't be messed with easily. Thugs and dealers appreciate that in a stranger, though they'd never let it be known, and expect it in a confidant or partner. I had made the rounds through the bar five times before the dealers and their thugs bothered to show up. I was at the bar refilling my beer bucket when they walked in. After filling the bucket I made my way over to their table. During the five other rounds I had mastered the art of moving through the sea of people so it took me a matter of second before I was at their table passing out beers. The money was on the table by the time I gave the last thug their beer. The closest one, who also happened to be the biggest, was the source of the money. He gave me a cold hard stare as place the money on the table and I in turn looked straight back in his eyes rather than at the table as I took the money. I was the first to break the staring contest by turning from the table and disappearing back into the crowd. I felt not only his eyes, but the rest of the table's eyes, on me the whole time leaving only when I was finally out of sight.

I made sure to pass by their table at least once every 30 minutes. I had noticed that the busboy had frequented their table more than any other so I copied in his footsteps. Though he hadn't passed by their table nearly as often as I was. By the end of the night the dealers paid me little attention, holding the money up in a hand for me to take once I'd passed out the beers.

From that night on I made the rounds, and as I expected the busboy didn't fight me on it. It took the dealers a week to make a move. On this particular night there was only one dealer who had two thugs with him. It was nearing the end of the night and I was in the process of taking the money from the hand of the dealer, which also happened to be the shortest but meanest looking of all the ones who I'd seen in the past two weeks. He had a scar on his cheek and a half smoked cigar hung out of his mouth. The stubble on his face looked to be a few days old, his teeth however were perfect. When I went to take the money from his hand he didn't let go. I looked down at him without loosening the pressure of which I held the money. He turned his head to look up at me and without moving the cigar said, "Take a seat".

I didn't have to look around for a seat; the thug across the table stood from his and moved it next to me. I let go of the money and sat down without ever removing my eyes from the face of the man who'd spoken to me. He removed the cigar from his mouth and leaned in, still looking me in the eye he said, "You've been here what? Almost two weeks now? What are you doing here?"

"Making a living," I replied. The man cracked a smile and looked at the guy across from him before returning his gaze to me.

"A living you say. You aren't from this area, in fact, I'm willing to bet you're not even from L2."

"Well L2 isn't known to be ripe with Asians so I'd say you were onto something" I said without a smile. Humor is not a strong point of mine, nor is it something to play lightly with around known thugs, but there is no use in beating around an already burned bush.

The man squinted his right eye and took a long drag from his cigar before he answered. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know your someone to be respected or feared"

"Is there a difference?"

"Respect is earned through patience and time and it's easy to lose. Fear is gained quickly and once established is hard to lose. Its not uncommon for people who live in fear to delude themselves into believing it's a form of respect." The man's eyes narrowed a bit, but he kept smoking his cigar so I kept talking. "From the way the patrons at this bar keep their distance from the table and in fact never sit here before you show up leads me to believe you are someone to who wishes to be feared."

"Yet you don't seem to fear me."

"I have witnessed nothing that would lead me to fear you." He studied me for a minute. My answer had thrown him off but he was good at hiding his surprise. I would have missed it entirely except for the fact that he waited an extra second before exhaling the smoke he'd just inhaled from the cigar.

"How would you like to make a little extra cash? I know how much you make working here, and I doubt it's your idea of a 'living'."

"How would I go about making this extra cash?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"All you'd have to do is deliver some packages to some people at designated times and places."

"Why me?"

"We're looking for someone who doesn't frighten easily and who can stick up for himself. Has a smart wit and fast reflexes. You seem to fit the mold we're looking for perfectly." Though I doubted I'd displayed my reflexes at all during my time working there I didn't question him. It took me a week to get them to talk to me; I wondered how long I'd have to deliver packages before they would let me into their circle more.

"When would I start?"

"Meet us out back when you're done here for the night." I nodded to show my understanding, stood and walked away into the crowd. The whole encounter lasted less than 5 minutes, but the patrons seemed more eager than usual to get their beer before it was all out.

There was enough beer at the bar for me to make one more round before we were out for the night. The dealers had left the table shortly after our conversation, of which I was grateful; I hadn't wanted to go back to the table after our discussion, it would have been awkward.

I left the bar around 5:30 and made my way to the back of it, starting off in the direction I usually head home in to throw off the busboy. There was a plain white van parked in the alley behind the bar. I thought this seemed rather obvious but then I remembered the police didn't patrol this area, which therefore meant the dealers didn't have to be so discreet.

I got to the van and noticed someone was leaning against the side of it smoking a cigar. I recognized it to be the man I'd spoken with earlier in the bar.

"Get in" he said, opening the side door to reveal the two thugs sitting in the back. There was someone in the driver's seat that I didn't recognize as having ever seen in the bar, yet there was something about his presence that bothered me.

I climbed into the back of the van with the shorter man and he slid the door closed behind us. The middle seat of the van had been removed and a table was in its place. The two thugs stayed seated where they were in the back and the short man took the passenger seat, which was turned to face the back of the van. I crouched where I was in the middle. On the table in front of me lay two rectangular boxes.

"These are the packages you are to deliver." Said the short man, "The larger of the two is going to a guy in Sector A, that's White Plains to you, and the smaller is going to a guy in Sector B, or Montrose as its called now." I was told the time and exact locations I'd be meeting with these 'guys' and how long I should wait before leaving if no one showed up; both meetings where happening before 7 this morning.

"You'll be taken to these locations by our driver. I noticed you walk to and from this place and the mass transit here isn't becoming to one of our employees. Until you make enough to buy your own transportation we will provide it. You should also consider finding a real apartment. Hotels, especially the one your staying in, can have troublesome staff that we need to take care of, if you know what I mean. Its best just to not get them involved."

It irked me a little that I hadn't realized I'd had a tail, though I'd figured these guys had done research on me so I wasn't surprised they knew where I was staying.

"Good luck today" the short man said before turning the passenger seat back to the front. He then patted the driver on the shoulder twice before opening the door and stepping out of the van. I opened the side door and climbed out, the other two dealers came out behind me. The dealer held the passenger door open for me so I climbed in and he closed it behind me. The window was rolled down so he leaned in close and whispered, "Don't worry about the driver, he doesn't say much but he's a good guy." He winked up at me, hit the side of the van and started walking off. At the sound of him hitting the van it suddenly roared to life. This is when I looked over at the driver, only to discover he was no longer looking straight ahead, but familiar violet eyes were silently staring straight back into mine. I no longer wondered why I hadn't noticed the tail.

----------

hmmmm…..thoughts?


	4. Chapter 4

After a short staring contest of about 5 seconds Duo put the car in 'Drive,' turned his head forward, and began the drive to o

On to Chapter 4! Sorry about the wait!

--

As we look into each other's eyes, I notice he is not the person I once new. His eyes were sullen with dark rings around them. His face looked narrower than I remember and his cheeks, once full and happy were now sunken in with the bones popping out and a slight frown seemed to have taken permanent residence on his lips. He was wearing gloves with the tops of his fingers coming out; both hands were on the steering wheel. His fingers were dirty and his clothes were covered in a layer of filth and grime.

After a short staring contest of about 5 seconds Duo put the car in 'Drive,' turned his head forward, and began the drive to our first stop. It was a quiet drive, something I'd always wished for during the war when I was stuck with him in a car, but something he was never able to accomplish. I would have much preferred the old Duo's bantering chatter to this awkward silence between us.

I didn't know what to say to break the silence. I never was much of a talker; I always left it for Duo. The fact that I didn't know what side he was on made it even harder to figure out what to say to him. If he had changed sides and was really working for the "bad guys" my cover could have just been blown. Duo could be taking me to my first target, or he could be taking me some place to dispose of me. Or, better yet, let me think everything was all right, bring me to my targets and then bring me to the Boss, spill the beans, and terminate me. Or he could be undercover like I am. Who would he be working for? Another organization? Himself? Or he could just be doing it for the money, with no alliance to anyone. But how would I be able to find out? I couldn't compromise my position. I was finally in, to be discovered now would be disastrous, not only to me but to the Preventors. The boss wouldn't let someone else in so quickly after this and the Preventors' position to get to the group would be compromised.

I had to figure out where Duo was in all of this and I had to do it before we reached our final destination. I was running through different things to say in my head and I had it narrowed down to two when Duo surprised me by speaking up first, "What brings you to beautiful L2?" he said, eyes never leaving the road.

Not what I would have preferred him to say, this gave me nothing to go on and put me in the hot seat. There was no emotion in his voice; in fact, had I not seen his face I'd have never realized it was his voice. It had changed so much in just a year. I could tell him I came looking for a job, but how would I explain coming to L2? I could tell him about my mission hopping he was still on the "Good" side, but I figured that wouldn't be wise. So I went with the only thing I could think of that explained my being on L2 and may lead me to getting information I wanted from him, turning my head to look at him I said: "I came looking for you".

Silence.

I watched his face for any sign of a reaction. Not only did he not say anything for a while, but he didn't even react physically to what I said. Nothing. Not a twitch, not a blink, nothing. I took a deep breath and turned to look back out my side window. The streets and buildings outside started getting cleaner and newer looking. We were leaving Sector C.

The silence was deafening, I'd figured our conversation was over. Duo either hadn't forgiven me for leaving him without a word or he'd just been through too much since I last saw him. I'd kept tabs on him during my isolation from him. He'd had some rough times. Bankruptcy, robbery, drugs… all within a few months of each other. He'd gotten things together recently, or so I'd thought. He'd kept his nose out of trouble anyway. It's probably around the time he became the driver for the drug lord.

"Why?" It was a whisper. I almost didn't hear it. I turned to look at him, study his face, see if he'd actually just spoken. He turned to look at me and a little louder said, "Why?"

Why? Simple question, obvious question, perfect question, but what was my answer? This was not my strength! Aside from not being a talker I was definitely not a liar. I never spoke enough to find lies useful. To have a conversation with someone was hard enough, having a conversation with someone with who used to be my best friend that I was now lying to… it was near impossible!

"You didn't follow your dream." Though he did open a junkyard, he wasted his money in futile attempts to find me. Instead of striving to keep his junkyard alive he sunk into drugs and alcohol.

He snorts at me and shakes his head. "I followed my dream." He says, pausing and looking back at the road. I watch his face, watch his eyes, the eyes are the windows to the soul, or so I'm told. "I followed you." He keeps his eyes on the road, but he feels my stare, I know because he does a sort of half blink, like he's holding something back.

"I know" I say, looking at my knee where my hand is picking at my jeans.

"I thought you might. You were always a step ahead. Leaving town the day before I got there. Sometimes I'd come to find I was chasing a dead end. Its how I knew you knew I was following. Towards the end I got good at being inconspicuous. I actually saw you a few times. You were always leaving, never to return, sensing my presence." He shakes his head and a smile graces his face, ever so briefly. "It became a game. I'd try to see if I could get to you before you sensed me. Watch you before you'd even know I was there. The last time I went looking for you, I watched you for two whole days before you caught on and left. I never did see you leave though."

"Wardrobe change: small stilts, wig, padding, glasses and I hired a few rent-a-cops to be my posse."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asks.

"I don't know." I say with a sigh. "I want to make things right between us. I never should have left like that. I'm the reason your junkyard failed. I'm the reason your dream never came true."

Duo looks on the verge of tears, but none escape. His voice isn't even shaky when he speaks next, even though it looks like it's taking him some effort to get the words out.

"The junkyard was never my dream. It was just a fallback. It was something I was interested in and wanted to do, but my dream, no. I just said that to try and make a point to you. That people have to have dreams."

"If that wasn't your dream," I ask, "then what was?"

He looks over at me again, searches my eyes for a minute and then says: "You".

--

Sorry its so short, seemed like the perfect ending. Got some ideas floating around so hopefully the next chapter will be much faster coming.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Out of Touch

--

"If that wasn't your dream," I ask, "then what was?"

He looks over at me again, searches my eyes for a minute and then says: "You".

Me. I feel my breath catch in my throat. I can't look at him. This is not where I had wanted this conversation to go. A simple lie had turned into a truth telling escapade. How can he say that? Why would he say that? I left him so he could move on, forget about me, live a normal life, find someone who would know how to return his feelings. I never understood his desire to find me; it's why I sent him on some of those wild goose chases. In hopes it would make him lose interest, realize I was a lost cause, realize he was wasting his money for nothing. Obviously he didn't quite see it that way.

The fact of the matter is, I hadn't realized Duo had been watching me for two days the last time he'd found me. I caught on to him six hours before I made my departure. That means he knew were I was for forty-two hours before I even knew he'd found me. Forty-two hours. Once I'd caught on to him I started the plans for leaving. And that time, I was making it final. Though I secretly enjoyed the thrill of being "hunted", I couldn't let Duo waste his time following me anymore. I moved to a rural part of Wyoming, using 4 different aliases and four different disguises to get there. I became Tom Marshal; farm boy from Idaho. I'd let my hair grow and stopped shaving. I allowed a moderate amount of facial hair to grow to help hide facial details, but I did trim it. No use having a wild growing bread when a well kept one does the same thing.

A few minutes had passed and I still hadn't answered him. The van starts to slow, Duo pulls into a parking garage and goes to the top level.

"We're here" he says, pulling into a spot directly in the middle of the lot and turning the van off, "your guy is over in that truck" he says pointing to a black Nissan Titan parked a few spaces away in front of us. His voice sounds like it's lost even more emotion than when I first got in the van.

I open my door; package in one hand, door in the other. I close the door and walk to the truck, which is the only other vehicle on the top level of the garage. Before I make it all the way to the truck a tall, thin man dressed in a black tailored suit steps out of the drivers side and starts heading towards me.

"I see Mike has a new delivery boy," the man says. So the Boss went by the name Mike. Wonder if that's the only name he goes by or if he has multiple aliases. "My and aren't you quite the catch." He says when we stop in front of each other, giving me a good look up and down. I can feel his eyes undressing me. "You ever get tired of delivering packages," he says while licking his lips, "I've got the perfect job for you". He places one hand on my shoulder as he uses the other to take the package I'm holding out to him. With one final sweep of his eyes over my body he lets his hand fall off my shoulder to run across my upper arm and chest, eliciting an involuntary shiver from me. He chuckles, hands me a fat envelope, turns and heads back to his truck. I do likewise and head to the relative safety of the van, and Duo.

I look over at Duo while I open the door to the van. He's watching the truck with a slight frown on his face.

"What did he offer you" he says, eyes still on the truck currently pulling out of its parking spot.

"What do you mean?" I ask, playing innocent.

"He talked to you, he only talks when he's interested in something. I watched him. He touched you. What did he say?" Duo's staring at me with such intensity it surprises me. Even though Duo has changed since the last time I saw him he still filters through different emotions very quickly.

"He said if I ever get tired of delivering packages he's got a position for me on his staff" I say, letting Duo decide for himself what that meant.

"He's a snake. Slimy bastard. He's into child pornography and orgies." He says with a sneer. His eyes are moving all over the place, not focusing on anything. "He provides housing to all his staff. They have two dress codes, one for when they are inside the house, and one for when they are in public." He focuses on my face. "He uses his staff to provide him with entertainment."

"I'll keep that in mind." I say.

Duo starts up the van and heads for the exit. We ride along in silence for a while. I don't know how to broach the subject of our last conversation, but I still have to know how Duo got involved with the drug lords.

"How did you get this job?" I ask him.

He bites on his lower lip for a minute before answering, "When the junkyard went under I was heavy in debt to the drug lords with no way of paying them off. My options were to let them cut off random appendages of mine to represent body parts of hostages to get their rich family members to pay up faster, or I could work for them. I figured I'd go the less painful route. I started off as package delivery boy, I have since moved up to driver and stalker. Two things I don't mind doing." We come to a red light and he stops the van. "Look, we have some time to kill before we need to meet the next client. I usually stop off at a diner to pass the time."

"Ok".

There's a diner down the road from the parking garage. Duo pulls in the parking lot and parks right in front. He shuts the lights off, turns the engine off, unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the van. I follow suit.

We head inside. The place is practically empty. There's two men at the counter drinking coffee, one with a piece of pie in front of him, in a corner booth are a bunch of teenagers playing cards. The only waitress in sight is an older woman with curly reddish blond hair done up in a messy bun, a bandana is wrapped around her head to help hold the hair out of her face. She has her elbows resting on the counter holding her head up as she reads a magazine, blowing bubbles with the piece of gum she's chewing. Letting the bubbles pop noisily. She sways her hips slightly in rhythm to music playing from a small radio behind her. She looks up as the bell over the door rings when we enter and calls out "Have a seat anyway boys".

Duo walks to a booth in the middle of the restaurant by a window, I take the seat across from him. After a few minutes the waitress walks over to us, stopping in front of the booth. She juts her hip out to the left, putting her weight on the left leg and bending the right slightly, blows a bubble with her gum and lazily says, "What can I get you boys tonight?"

"Burger, medium with fries and a chocolate shake" says Duo. The waitress writes his order down, blows another bubble, pops it and turns to me saying, "And for you sweetheart?"

"Coffee and some toast with jam, please". She gives me a little look, turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen to place our orders.

We sit there in silence for a while, staring out the windows. I see this is becoming a theme, silence and windows. Duo looks down at the table, sighs then looks up at me.

"What are you doing here now? I know you weren't looking for me."

I turn my gaze to lock eyes with him. His face is emotionless but his eyes are screaming. I'd never noticed the power and intensity of the eyes to reveal emotion before.

Before I can answer he says, "I bet your hear to take down the drug lords. That's what the last package guy was here for. He didn't last long, as I'm sure you already know. The lords are cautious of everyone. They only hired you so quickly because they were desperate. But they have serious doubts about your credibility, which is one of the reasons they had me follow you so closely. They've had me check your history. Quite the back-story you have there. Orphan, colony jumper, gang member; all very credible too, can't find a single loophole to take advantage of."

"Would you take advantage of one if you found it?"

He looks at me, searching my face, for what I don't know. "No".

Our food arrives and the bubble gum popping waitress asks if she can get us anything else before heading back to her magazine.

I butter my toast and apply my jam as Duo dumps half a bottle of ketchup and mustard on his burger before taking a bite.

If Duo is to be trusted, it would appear that he isn't working for any side. Before brining him in on my mission I'd have to be certain. Normally I'd also have to talk to Une about bringing an outsider in on a mission, but this was different. I didn't know how Une would react to Duo already having connections with the drug lords and then helping me out. I figured it would be better for everyone if I left him out of my reports, for now.

I want to change the subject, "Do you keep in touch with any of the others?"

"Did for the first few months. After that it just took too much energy. They had all moved on. Trowa and Quarte got married and are living together; think they both have positions with the Preventors. They had this really big celebration on Earth. I didn't go. Wufei was one of the first to join the Preventors with Une. Never thought I'd see the day that Une worked on our side. Guess multiple personalities can be useful. I guess your working for the Preventors now, that's why you're here doing this. They have been after these guys since before they were a real organization. Most of the Drug Lords here provided money and supplies to OZ. Its probably why Une knows about them, she use to deal with them for business."

Une failed to mention this bit of information to me when she handed me the assignment. It could have been useful information for finding out bases and contacts to the Drug Lords. I wonder why she kept it out. Either she thought the information was unimportant since the war was now over, she had a lapse in judgment, or she's hiding something. It's beginning to sound as if this whole mission is a personal one to her. As if finding these Lords and eradicating them would be a kind of redemption for the pain and suffering she caused as Lady Une with OZ.

I finished eating my toast before Duo finished his burger. The waitress came around and refilled my coffee cup twice. I knew Duo was done with his meal when he began making loud noises with his straw as he tried to get the remaining liquid of the shake out, his cheeks being sucked into his face from the effort.

When he was done he put the glass down, letting out a satisfied sigh, leaned back patting his stomach and saying, "Ready?" as he pulled his wallet out to pay for his meal and standing up. I pulled my wallet out as well to pay, "Nah, don't worry about it, I got you covered."

"Thanks" I say, putting my wallet back in my pocket as I stand from the booth to follow him to the van.

"Don't mention it", he says over his shoulder.

We climb into the van and buckle up. "The next guy is a few minutes down the road" he says as I eye my watch, seeing that it says 6:30 am and we are to be meeting the next client at 6:45, "Don't worry".

True as his word we arrive at the next meeting location five minutes before the scheduled meeting time. There is already a car in the lot waiting.

"This guy has class" say Duo, eyeing the car longingly, "These were just released on Earth.This has to be the first one in the Colonies".

"What is it?" I ask.

He gives me a look like I'm not worthy to associate myself with the male species and says, "Its an Audi R8!"

I get out of the car and head over to the Audi. Instead of a man, a woman in a skimpy, low riding dress and five inch heels gets out of the passenger side; her long, black hair blowing in the wind as she saunters over to me.

"Hey Baby" she says, "Lookin good". She lifts a finger to trace lines on my shirt-covered shoulder. I hear the Audi let out a loud, quick beep.

The woman smiles at me and takes the package, giving me another fat envelope to add to my collection. "Later sugar," she says over her shoulder as she heads back to the car.

I feel dirty. Both of my drop-offs came on to me, touched me. When I get back to the car Duo's frown was close to a growl.

"Sodomist? Sex fiend? Excrement eater?" I ask.

Dou gives me a weird look with the last one before saying with a sneer, "No, Courtney. She used to drop things off at the junkyard all the time. We became close. She never used to look like that; or wear that kind of clothing."

"I see"

"I never would have expected her to join that type of crowd. This is what L2 does to people." He says, his face has gone from angry to sad. "I'll bring you back to your hotel now".

--

Two chapters in one weekend. Not bad! Hope you enjoyed it!

Please R&R!!


	6. Chapter 6

On with the story!

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

I wasn't given any more deliveries for the remainder of the week, so needless to say, I didn't see Duo. This was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because I could then pretend he wasn't the driver and we hadn't talked, a curse because I thought about our talk every day and dreaded our next meeting.

Sunday was the only day the Bar was closed, and hence the only day I did not work. I spent the time writing reports for Une and familiarizing myself with the different parts of L2. I had planned to spend this Sunday looking for an apartment so I could spare the hotel staff any risk of meeting with the Boss. I was quite surprised to hear a knock at my door at 10 am. At first I thought it was the cleaning staff checking to see if anyone was in. But when I opened the door I was startled to find Duo instead. Under his arm he held what looked to be a package. A rectangular box wrapped in paper and tied with twine.

Without moving from his spot and without looking at me directly he said, "We have a delivery."

I nodded my head in understanding, grabbed my coat off the hook next to the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind me. He handed me the package before turning to walk down the hall in the direction of the elevators. I followed him in silence.

We rode the elevator to one of the parking deck levels. I continued to follow Duo to the parked van. He climbed into the driver seat while I climbed into the passenger. Duo turned the key in the ignition and after a few clicks the van roared to life.

I held the package in my lap and played with the loose ends of the twine while Duo maneuvered the van out of the parking garage.

"Duo, do you know where these drugs are coming from? How the Drug Lords are getting them?"

"The are produced on L2. At least the final product is; in a warehouse not to far from here. These drugs are a combination of mostly household cleaners. My guess is they order bulk loads straight from the manufactures and then mix them together here. Even the weed is fake. I don't think any of the drugs these guys sell are organic."

"Do you know all the people involved?"

"Does that include all the clients?"

"Yes, but that's more of a bonus. I need to know all the people involved on the Drug Lords side."

"Well all the Drug Lords in the area work together. The warehouse provides the drugs to all the Lords. Their fights and drive-bys are just for show. My understanding is the owner of the warehouse is the one in charge. All the Lords answer to him and give him a substantial portion of their profits. The warehouse's cover is dish detergent. I think its safe to assume the detergent and the drugs share some of the same ingredients."

Getting information for this job was turning out to be rather easy. The hard part was going to be closing down the warehouse. If all the Drug Lords on L2 were part of the same organization, then they were like a small army for the warehouse. I'm sure they had no limit to guns and ammunition. There would be many casualties, on both sides.

Duo pulled into the same parking garage I had made my first delivery in. As he did the first time he drove to the top level and parked in the middle of the lot. The lot was empty. We were completely alone.

"It's the same guy from the other night" Duo said with a snear, "He never orders packages this close together."

We watched the truck pull onto the top level and drive toward us. The truck parked a few spots down in the next aisle over. I got out of the van and walked so I was half way between the two vehicles. The same man from last time got out of the passenger side door and sauntered over to me. He had a slight smile on his face and his eyes squinted from the artificial sunlight.

"Ah, we meet again." He says, letting his smile grow wider. He came to a stop in front of me, "Why don't you come to my truck with me to try some of this out? On the house".

"I'd rather not"

"If its because of your driver, theres no problem. I'll have my driver return you to your hotel". I couldn't be sure if he was guessing at my living arrangement or new for a fact I was staying at a hotel. I hoped he was just guessing.

"I don't mix work and play"

"I understand. Another time then." He handed me a fat envelope and I handed him his package. Once the exchange was made I turned and walked back to the van. I could feel the mans eyes on me while I walked. I got into the car and Duo wasted no time pulling out of the spot and heading for the exit.

"I don't trust that man" he said while turning into traffic on the ground level.

"I think he knows where I'm staying." Duo's head snaps in my direction, eyes searching my face, for what I'm not sure.

"How do you know?"

"He asked me to go back to the truck with him to try the drugs, when I declined he said he'd be happy to have his driver take me to my hotel so I wasn't keeping you waiting."

Duo was quite a minute. "I think you may be right. He wouldn't have said hotel unless he knew you weren't living with someone or renting a place. He's too sure of himself to make a statement like that without having some sort of fact to back it up. Whether he knows which hotel exactly is up for debate, but if he's not sure now, I'm sure he'll be finding out soon. You need to leave that hotel as soon as possible."

"And go where? Is he found out which hotel I'm at its only a matter of time until he finds out where I've moved to again."

After a minute Duo spoke, "Here's what your going to do. Your going to move out of that hotel today. Your going to rent rooms in 3 other hotels and then your going to come stay with me. And I'm not taking no for an answer."

I could see his logic. The 3 hotels would make it harder to find me, and if I made appearances in all 3 every day the hotel staff could say I was staying there if anyone inquired. But then by staying with Duo I'd have the protection of another person, who just so happened to be a Gundam pilot, and my name wouldn't be associated with his apartment so unless someone was following me and I didn't know it they wouldn't know I was staying with him. Even though I could see the logic, the thought of staying with Duo scared me. I was sad to see our friendship end when I left but I was still convinced I was a bad influence on Duo and would only bring him down if we became friendly again. However, I didn't want any surprise encounters from this man at my place of residence, and if he did find me at Duo's I would prefer to have someone else with me to face him. So I responded with the only thing I could.

"Ok"


End file.
